


Cat Person

by foxysquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Banter, Cats, Comedy, F/M, Friendship, Galra Empire, Good Zarkon (Voltron), Misadventures, Pets, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18991198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: Zarkon has come to Altea on a very important mission: to meet Honerva's family. He is eager to carry out tradition and make a good impression. He is certainly not nervous. At all.Only one small obstacle stands in the way of his mission's success: the cat.Originally published in the Zarkon ZineLong Live the Emperor, which you can findhere.





	Cat Person

Zarkon stared at Kova.

The cat stared back, eyes as golden as a Galra's. Zarkon wasn't afraid of Kova. He never had been, as he was a Galra warrior, but he wasn't entirely at ease with the animal. Before meeting Honerva, he had had no experience with that species, and the cat remained a mystery to him, in some respects. It was to be expected that it would prefer Honerva's company, but it also had the air of being disdainful of Zarkon. He couldn't shake the sense that the cat didn't entirely approve of him. Not that that mattered. Regardless of the cat's opinion, he and Honerva were to be wed.

Zarkon might have felt more at ease if the cat had come to accept him fully. Not that he thought it was bad luck. Omens were mere superstition. No, it was a practical matter. It would be best if everything progressed smoothly and no part of their union was rough. Zarkon was aware of how far he had already diverged from tradition. His wife-to-be was not only of a different class, but she was not Galra. That was unprecedented, for the spouse of an emperor. Zarkon, who had dedicated his life to the ways and rules of his people, had never expected to find himself in this position, yet he never considered not marrying Honerva. He was the emperor, and his will was law. He could marry the person of his choice, and Honerva was the only person he would ever want to devote himself to in that way.

Outside of his one, vast divergence from custom, Zarkon was determined to follow the marriage traditions of the Galra as closely as possible. It was traditional, but more than that, it was personal. These same rituals had been followed for thousands of years, and would continue to be followed for thousands more.

That was why he was here, on Altea. It was customary to present yourself to the parents of your betrothed and prostrate yourself before them as a sign of respect. Not even the emperor was excused from this duty. While Zarkon did not like making himself vulnerable, that was the point of the ancient ritual: to suffer humility for the sake of one's love, to show that there was no trial you would not endure for your beloved.

Zarkon had never met Honerva's parents before. According to Honerva, they approved of the union, as they should, but simple approval wasn't enough. No, that alone hadn't reassured him. He was uneasy—not a fitting emotion for one of his role and status. Respect and custom alone should have been enough for the emperor, but it was becoming clear to him that he wanted more. 

The cat blinked at him, slowly, disinterest clear on his small face. Zarkon held a hand out to Kova, but Kova turned his head to the side. Why wouldn't the cat like him? That was what Zarkon wanted. The truth ate at him. A need for affection was a weakness. How could he admit it to anyone? There was no one he could make such a shameful confession to, not even—

"King Alfor, to see Emperor Zarkon."

The bright voice was enough to draw Zarkon's attention immediately, although he was two rooms away. Zarkon and Honerva were staying at Alfor's palace, in one of his guest suites, but Zarkon had brought his own staff along. One guard was standing watch at his door, instructed to ask for the identification of anyone who tried to enter, even the Altean king himself.

In spite of being questioned in his own home, Alfor was in good spirits when Zarkon joined him. Alfor grinned and waved at Zarkon, as Zarkon waved away his own guard. "That's unnecessary," Zarkon said, although she had been following his orders. "Give us privacy," he added, so that she would keep her distance for a time. It wasn't that he didn't believe Alfor's palace had ample security, but this was Galra protocol.

"Zarkon, it's so good to see you." Alfor threw his arms around Zarkon before Zarkon or his retreating guard had the chance to object. He and Alfor had already spoken earlier in the day, so the embrace was superfluous. "Where's Honerva?" asked Alfor as he pulled away.

"She's with her parents, instructing them in the words and actions of the ceremony."

"Of course, the ceremony. Are you going to do the whole thing?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"No—reason. But isn't it several vargas long?"

"Is that relevant?" asked Zarkon.

"Not at all. What is relevant is the fact that we're going to have a party afterward."

Alfor hadn't changed the subject as smoothly as he probably believed, but Zarkon decided not to challenge him on it. He was going to keep the full text of the original Galra ceremony. What Alfor had to say on the subject was of no consequence to him.

Alfor clapped him on the back, ushering him into the next room, farther away from his guard, as if they were about to share a confidence. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Zarkon. I have a few ideas about the celebration, and I'd like your input."

"Ideas? I already made my ideas clear."

"Well, yes, you did, but—"

"Tradition is clear on this matter. There's no ambiguity involved."

"That is true of Galra tradition," said Alfor, slowly. "But what about Altean tradition?"

"What?"

Alfor's tone was very light. Zarkon knew from experience that this meant he was serious. It was that particular level of lightness. "Your future wife. Is Altean. I thought you would have wanted to throw in at least a few Altean touches."

Zarkon said nothing. He stared unblinkingly at Alfor, much as he had stared at the cat not long before. Alfor was right. Zarkon had been so set on upholding his tradition, he hadn't given sufficient thought to hers. It wasn't that she had complained about any aspect of the preparations. No, she had showed herself to be an apt and interested student of Galra culture who shared his desire to keep to traditional ways, but Zarkon should have been more considerate. That was the duty of a husband. He had failed in his duty. He felt a chill spreading under his scales. They suddenly felt tight, as did his armor.

"You're right," he said, two words that he would have preferred not to say to Alfor.

"I know I should worry when I hear you say that. What's wrong?"

"I've made a mistake. Alfor, how could you let me make a mistake?"

"Me? It's my fault now? Zarkon, what are you—"

"Alfor, I don't have time for you being difficult."

"Oh. My mistake. I'll cease being difficult now."

Zarkon saw that Alfor was smirking, but he decided to ignore it. "What am I going to do?"

"I might have a few suggestions," said Alfor.

Zarkon ignored him and his possible suggestions, frowning. In his current state, he had become intensely aware of his surroundings, like any Galra sensing an impending battle. In his state of readiness, he noticed something wrong. Not everything was where it should be. No, something very important was missing. "Alfor, have you seen the cat?"

"Kova? No, I haven't seen him since you arrived. Is it important?"

"He was here, when you came in. How could he have moved without my seeing him?"

"Cats do move in mysterious ways," said Alfor philosophically.

"I'm a Galra. No animal can escape my powers of detection."

"But Zarkon, that's clearly not true, or—"

Zarkon, who had already busied himself looking for the cat, stilled, then turned to look at his friend. "Or what, Alfor?" he asked, slowly.

"Forget I said anything about it."

"I will." Having scanned this room with his keen Galra senses, Zarkon moved into the next one. In this room was the entryway, through which Alfor had so recently passed. An entryway which was—open. The door, flung wide, revealed the corridor beyond, leading out into the palace proper. "Alfor, you left the door open."

"Did I? I suppose I did, but it's not an outside door."

"But Alfor, the cat."

"Kova? He'll be fine. He's very smart. He knows what he's doing."

"If he can get out of these rooms, then he can get out of the palace. What if we lose Honerva's cat?"

"We?" asked Alfor, but he didn't go so far as to object to being included in the blame. "Zarkon, you're fixating. Take a moment and calm yourself. The cat will be fine, even if he did go out into the hall. It's not as if Kova has never been here before."

"But Alfor, I've already done enough. I can't do anything else to jeopardize our courtship. I need to deal with this problem immediately."

"Immediately? But Zarkon, it's not even a prob—"

Zarkon understood that Alfor meant well, but he needed time to think. He also needed to ascertain the cat's whereabouts. Had Kova left because of disdain for Zarkon? Perhaps he disapproved of their union and did not wish to spend the rest of his lifetime in the emperor's residence, with the emperor himself. On some level, Zarkon was dimly aware of the fact that Alfor was unfortunately right again, in that Zarkon was not being his usual calm, collected and rational self. Alfor, however, didn't understand how much Zarkon needed everything to go smoothly. He wanted his plans to unfold without a hitch, yet here they were, starting to unravel before him.

Zarkon was already leaving the suite, and although Alfor called out after him, Alfor did not follow him. Good. Zarkon was an independent problem solver. He could handle this issue on his own. He knew Alfor's palace well, having visited it numerous times throughout the years. When Alfor's staff and household saw the emperor moving purposefully from room to room, they did look up with interest, but they wisely did not disturb him. Thanks to Zarkon's efficient search strategy, he soon ran out of likely places within the palace to look for the cat. Once or twice, Zarkon said his name, but the cat did not come. Kova had never come when Zarkon called for him, so he had not have much hope for the success of that stratagem.

The delicately colorful Altean gardens outside the palace were similarly devoid of Kova. There was one cat lounging at the feet of a statue, but it was almost completely white, except for a streak of purple down the middle of its back. It blinked at Zarkon. He felt disrespected, but moved on.

His search brought him to a latticed gate in the garden wall. Zarkon looked it over with the eye of a warrior. Not only was it structurally weak and indefensible, it was also unlatched. It was not the kind of gate one would find at a Galra palace. Following this strict review, Zarkon realized that Kova might easily have slipped through this gate, or one like it. What if he wasn't in the palace at all, but had passed beyond, into the city proper? Then he might be anywhere. When Honerva returned from visiting her parents, he would have to tell her that her cat's whereabouts were unknown. Zarkon was not a superstitious man, but that would not be a good sign.

No one stopped Zarkon on his way into the city. He was free to go where he wished throughout Altea, as an ally of the king. He had no reason to be wary of the populace. Armed and armored as he was, he had little to fear anywhere. Yes, such garb did make him stand out, but the Galra emperor did not appear in public unarmored, so he had had his servants ensure that he was properly clad that morning. It was not full war armor, but would be effective if a battle were to break out, as unlikely as that was in Altea's capital.

Once in the city, he was forced to admit that he had no idea where to look for the cat. Not for the first time, he questioned this plan. There were animals to be seen along the tree-lined boulevards: not only cats, but dogs, elegant birds, and larger grazing mammals. They complicated his search. Altean society embraced many creatures, and while they were not all permitted to roam freely, they did take up their share of public space. The streets were busy with people as well, which did not make his task any easier.

This was a populous city, but not so populous that the Galra Emperor didn't draw his share of attention. He would have had to be far less observant to miss the stares and murmurs in response to his identity. There were few people in this galaxy who did not know of the emperor. It was not in keeping with proper protocol for him to come here unescorted, but he reminded himself that the emperor could do as he willed, regardless of public opinion.

He decided to make use of these inhabitants. He was still near the palace. If a cat had left the grounds, these people were the most likely to have caught a glimpse of it. Zarkon turned toward a likely Altean. She had dark hair and golden eyes. Although she glanced in his direction like the others, she was walking with a purposeful stride.

"Altean citizen," he said. "I have need of your input."

"Yes—Your Majesty?" she asked. She had the look of a person wishing she was someone or somewhere else, but responded to him boldly enough.

"I am looking for a cat," he said.

"A cat? What—kind of cat, Your Imperial Majesty?" She had decided to upgrade his spoken title, which did not displease Zarkon. Quite the opposite. 

Zarkon described Kova briefly, but the Altean shook her head, while doing her best to bow gracefully. The same process was repeated with a number of increasingly bewildered Alteans, with similar results. It was not heartening. He wanted to ensure things went perfectly for Honvera and for their marriage, but was this the way to go about it? He doubted, but he would not let doubt hamper him. There might be flaws in his plan, but he had committed himself to this course of action. A Galra saw every mission to completion.

As he was about to give up making inquires and intensify his search without outside aid, the first Altean he had spoken to returned to him—more timidly than a Galra might have, but bravely. "Your Imperial Majesty, I would like to make a suggestion."

"Please do," he said.

"If you are looking for a cat, you may wish to visit the herbalist, Arala. She has many plants that attract or help animals, and she knows a great deal about the behavior of various species."

Zarkon did not know much about herbalists, but this struck him as a sound suggestion. Consulting an expert was a better idea than questioning random citizens. "And where can I find this herbalist?"

"Her shop isn't far. She's a friend of my family, and I know she'll be honored to assist the Galra Emperor." The Altean woman was more at ease now that he had accepted her suggestion, and on their way, she spoke with him respectfully about how pleased she was by the empire's close ties to Altea.

The herbalist's shop was small and fragrant, crowded with vials and bottles in a range of sizes. After introducing him briefly to the herbalist, Zarkon's local guide left him there with a cheerful Altean wave, followed by a bow that was almost an afterthought. The herbalist had dark blue hair streaked with silver. She regarded him levelly over her sales counter. "What a privilege to have the emperor in my humble shop." In spite of her words, the calm pride she spoke with was admirable.

"I have been informed that you are the expert I need." Sensing he was in the presence of a competent person, Zarkon did not waste too much time with pleasantries, and following this brief preamble, he explained his problem.

Herbalist Arala nodded. "Cats can be cagey, and on the whole, their trust is not easily won. We have a saying here on Altea: 'Curious as a cat, but cautious as one, too.'"

"Kova is like that," Zarkon agreed, remembering the animal's reluctance in dealing with him. "But how can he be found?"

"If you are looking for a cat, I do have something that will assist you, but it is a powerful tool. Too much of it can cause complications."

"Tell me, what is it?"

"It is an herb known as catsclaw, because of its crescent shape. Some also call it cat's comfort, because of the effect it has on the animals. They are drawn to it as if by magic. Rub a small amount on your hands, and it is likely they will appear."

That did sound like the very thing to aid Zarkon in his search. "Provide me with this herb. I will see that you are richly compensated."

"Very well, but see that you use only a very small amount at a time. No more than a single measure. Otherwise, the consequences could be grave."

"I will certainly take great care," said Zarkon. "I thank you for your assistance to the empire."

"And I thank you for your patronage, Emperor Zarkon. We are pleased by your strong ties to Altea."

Zarkon wondered exactly who she referred to with her use of we. She may have meant Alteans as a whole, but as he was on a mission, he didn't expend too much thought on the matter. He exited the shop, with his herbs in hand. Herbalism was a much more popular pursuit on Altea than on Daibazaal, and his knowledge of the practice was admittedly limited. Yet the instructions were simple enough. Zarkon opened the sealed container just long enough to run his claws carefully across the surface of one of the whitish roots, then resealed it and recommenced his search.

He kept close to the castle, as it was more likely than not that Kova was still in the vicinity. He usually didn't stray too far, but today was different. The cat had probably sensed the change in the air, which meant that life would never be the same again. It was the same for Zarkon, but Zarkon would not allow a change in circumstances to affect _his_ behavior.

The initial results of his renewed search were not promising. Several cats emerged from alleyways and windows and gardens to sniff at him curiously or approach him cautiously, but that was all. It was an improvement, yes, but it was little help to him, as Kova himself did not appear. Zarkon remained mindful of the herbalist's warning, but surely he could use more of the herb. He was the Galra Emperor, and he could handle any challenge. It would not prove too much for him. It was only a matter of cats. An additional small portion couldn't hurt. She had said to use no more than "a measure". That could have meant a larger amount than what he had already used. Since he was much larger than an Altean, he might need to use more to account for his greater height. He couldn't delay too long, because his time was limited. He didn't know exactly how long it would be before Honerva returned from visiting her parents, but it would be within a few vargas, surely.

Zarkon reopened the container. He raked his claws across the roots again. This time they cut much deeper, revealing the pale roots' darker center. Good. Although Zarkon believed in planning and strategizing, he also didn't believe in doing things by half-measures. Hopefully, this time, he had used the full measure. Carefully resealing the container a second time, Zarkon strode forward down the wide Altean boulevard. For some few strides, he traveled without seeing any signs of the results of his increased dose of catsclaw root.

Then, a large orange cat hurried from the bushes and ran directly at him. Mere moments later, a lithe gray cat appeared, running up from behind him. Still not Kova, but Zarkon would be able to inspect more cats now that they were approaching him so much more readily. A trio of kittens raced out of a nearby garden and began to play around his ankles, winding their way around him so fiercely that Zarkon had to stop in his tracks to avoid treading on them. That was when he started to suspect he had been unwise.

Cats were a very popular pet on Altea. In this city, there were likely many thousands of them. Within ten doboshes, Zarkon found himself surrounded by an alarming percentage of them. Purring and meowing and making a range of other enthusiastic vocalizations, the cats were everywhere. Some even managed to climb up onto his armor. A few were perched on his pauldrons, and one kitten had enthusiastically leapt onto the top of his head, where it batted at the edge of his helmet.

Zarkon had thought he was receiving a large amount of attention from the locals before, but he had been wrong. What he had experienced before had been nothing compared to this. He was attracting Alteans as well as cats. Citizens were emerging from their homes or stopping short in the street to stare at the sight of him covered in felines. Most of them then hastily averted their eyes, probably because they realized it was impolitic to stare at the emperor. 

He briefly considered returning to the herbalist to ask for help, but that would only make it clear to her that he had not followed her instructions well enough, as well as prolonging his travels and this ordeal. The kitten on his head was nibbling at his ear. One of the cats on his pauldrons was tapping its paw against his face. Zarkon knew from experience that attempting to give a cat orders was a fruitless endeavor. He was helpless. They could not be stopped. He had to get back to the palace.

By the time Zarkon had managed to find Alfor, he had added some tens of cats to his new retinue, including the white cat he had encountered in the palace gardens earlier. That one was repeatedly leaping up and swiping at his hand. Fortunately, his skin was thick enough that it was not easily broken by a cat's claws. No, it was the catsclaw root that had defeated him, rather than the actual claws of a cat. Alfor regarded him in dumbstruck wonder for a number of ticks, almost a full dobosh, before he managed to ask, "Zarkon—what in the world?" 

"Alfor, there was an herbalist—" Zarkon began.

"Say no more. I won't make you explain yourself. I know how you hate to do it when you're having a bad day."

Zarkon was going to protest that he was not having a bad day, when a cat jumped up onto his breastplate and made it difficult for him to talk by positioning itself in front of his mouth, so he did not say it. He did appreciate not having to explain himself. This entire incident wouldn't be so bad if he'd at least been able to find Kova, but Honerva's cat was still conspicuously absent.

"I've already guessed what the problem is," said Alfor. "So give me the herb, and I'll mix up a little something to minimize the effects. Also, we're going to have to do something with these cats. We'll have to find them homes. Or get them back to their homes. Honestly, Zarkon, I can't leave you on your own for a varga!"

Zarkon narrowed his eyes. He knew full well that Alfor was teasing him, as he had said the same thing to Alfor before on numerous occasions. He wasn't going to acknowledge the comment, particularly as he was appreciative of Alfor's help in his varga of need. Alfor gently removed a cat from his shoulder, petting it and murmuring to it reassuringly as it meowed in protest at being taken away from Zarkon.

Within a half varga, Zarkon was back in his suite of rooms, and most of the cats had been removed. There were still twenty or so that hadn't been willing to be parted from him. The alchemical treatment Alfor had concocted had been effective, if not perfect. "No one uses the center of a catsclaw, Zarkon. It's much too potent. A measure comes from the outside."

"Forgive me for not being conversant in Altean herbalist terminology."

"I forgive you, Zarkon."

Zarkon snorted. "This is all well and good, Alfor, but I haven't found Kova yet. Where could he have gone? I only wanted to—"

"And what is all this about?" A familiar voice spoke behind them. Zarkon gave a start and turned. He had been so caught up in cats, he hadn't heard Honerva's approach. She stood in the doorway with her head titled slightly to one side, suppressing a smile. "What have you two been up to while I was gone?"

"It was Zarkon's idea," said Alfor quickly. Zarkon glared at him, but Alfor continued on breezily: "He wanted to do something in your honor while you were gone, so took it upon himself to make a collection of wayward cats. We are now going to help them find their way home. To a new home or their original homes, as the case may be."

"I know how you like cats," said Zarkon, who felt called upon to add something.

"That is a thoughtful gesture," said Honerva, now smiling in earnest. "And an adorable one, too." She had already come forward to pet the cats.

"Yes, the cat's comfort root has kept them very calm," said Alfor.

"Is that what that is?" Honerva sniffed the air. "I thought I smelled something familiar. You haven't been to see my Great-aunt Arala by any chance, have you?"

"Oh—your great-aunt." Honerva had given him an accounting of her relatives, but he did not have a complete knowledge of her entire extended family yet. "I did, as it happens."

"I see. She may have been teasing you a little."

"Teasing—?" Zarkon pronounced the word like it was unfamiliar to him.

"She does that sometimes. She doesn't seem like it, but she's known for her herbal humor. Well, you are family now. She may have thought a joke was in order. Everyone's been quite excited about taking part in an authentic Galra ritual. It's put them all in high spirits. Great-aunt Arala may have gotten carried away."

"Family," said Zarkon slowly. That was true. Honerva's family would now be his own family. So maybe some teasing could be permissible. Not that that would have been permissible among Galra, but this was different. His wife was Altean. Zarkon let out a long breath as tension drained from his body. His shoulders relaxed, in spite of the cats on them, and his scales no longer felt too tight for his body. "I understand. A family joke."

"Zarkon is extremely understanding about jokes," said Alfor, and Zarkon glared at him again, but only briefly. As his mood shifted, he was losing his desire to be annoyed with Alfor.

Honerva laughed, scratching one of the wayward cats under its chin. "You're quite a handsome cat, aren't you?" she asked. "But I shouldn't be too familiar. Kova might be jealous."

"Yes," said Zarkon. "Kova. He might be." He glanced desperately at Alfor, and Alfor shook his head.

At that moment, Kova trotted through the doorway of an adjoining room and let out a small but decisive meow as he ran to Honerva's feet. He didn't so much as glance at the other cats as he gazed up at his Altean. Honerva crouched and scratched him behind his ears. "That's right, I was talking about you, Kova. Did you have a nice nap?"

Zarkon regarded the doorway Kova had emerged from, incredulously. He had searched that room thoroughly, but he had not seen a sign of the cat within. "He was—in there?"

Honerva looked up at Zarkon. "Hm? Oh, I'm sure he was napping somewhere. He always has that look on his face when he's just woken up."

Zarkon had never had much success with reading Kova's expression, and he peered down at him searchingly. All the time, Kova had been right here in the palace, as Alfor had hypothesized. It would have been maddening, if Zarkon weren't so pleased to see this particular cat in this particular moment, among all the cats on Altea.

Kova surprised him, then, by moving away from Honerva and butting his head against Zarkon's shin guard, before rubbing himself languorously against Zarkon's legs. He started to purr. "Ah, he must smell the herb on me," said Zarkon.

"The herb?" asked Honerva, rising to her feet. "What do you mean? That may have something to do with it, but he's always liked you, Zarkon."

"Has he?"

"Yes, from the moment we met. Why do you think he ran up to meet you, that day?"

Zarkon stared at the cat as Honerva bent to lift him up, then presented him to Zarkon. Zarkon was forced to admit that he had been wrong about a number of things on this day, but fortunately, no one was going to make him admit that aloud. He reached out and scratched Kova behind his ears. The cat narrowed his golden eyes, and Zarkon finally realized that meant he must be pleased.


End file.
